Not the whipped cream inventor
by Isadtd
Summary: "Castle is famously fatherless," Beckett told Esposito once. But nobody reallys is... Caskett eventually.
1. Prologue

Author's note. So, I've been working in this story for two months now. I needed to, at least, map it out so it made sense. It's almost written now, around 6 or 7 chapters. It's quite different. Especially this first chapter. Just to be clear, it will be Caskett eventually. I hope you give it a try. Tell me what you think.

Disclaimer : Castle is not mine. But the mistakes and typos are, sadly.

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><p><strong>1970.<strong>

The actress fascinated the young man. He was watching the rehearsal from the theatre's wings. Her red hair were flying as she stormed the stage. She really owned it. She was spectacular and beautiful, he thought. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Fresh out of high school, Jon was enjoying his internship. He hadn't been thrilled at first. His father, the producer of the play, had insisted that he worked with him. The young man would have preferred to stay in the Hamptons with his friends before going to Harvard in the fall. But the ill-feeling had quickly faded when he had met the lead for the play. Martha Rodgers had stolen his heart with one look, a dazzling smile and a "Hello there!" The ten years she had on him didn't even fazed him. It had been three weeks since this first introduction. He had stood frozen now, he was determined to be bolder now. His dad had assigned him the task to drive her home after late rehearsals. The perfect opportunity. They talked, laughed, learnt more about each other. He thought that Martha liked him. And she had stopped calling him 'kid', which was good. He needed her to see him as a man. He had changed his clothes, his hairstyle and had started smoking. Anything to appear older, more mature. He brought his A game to seduce her.

He grinned at her as she walked to him, the rehearsals had finished while he was musing over the last few weeks. She smiled back and her face lighted up when she saw the rose he was extending to her.

"Thank you, Jon," she exhaled after smelling the red flower.

"You're welcome. Ready to go home Martha?" He helped her to her coat then lead her to the exit.

"Yes," she sighed. "I'm exhausted and starving!"

'Be bold', Jon thought before rushing words out : "What about I take you out to dinner then?"

Martha made the slightest pause. He wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been holding her arm.

"Why not?" They smiled at each other and Jon repressed a relived sigh from escaping his lips.

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><p>Martha and Jon were standing just outside her apartment door. It was late, as usual. They had gone to dinner. Every night in the last week. They have grown closer and closer. Martha was finding hard to not like the young man. He was so much younger than her, but he charmed her like a man. His smile, his twinkling eyes when he spoke to her, his easy-going attitude. He was sweet and mature for his age, smart and he had a way with words. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man. Most times, she just forgot he was so young.<p>

This was one of this times. He was going to kiss her, she knew it. She read the signs. The quick glances to her lips during the evening, the touch of his hand on the small of her back as he walked her to the door. So she wasn't surprised when his soft lips met hers. Her mind blanked, paralyzed by the sensation of his warm mouth. She didn't push him away, he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. As his tongue traced the bottom of her lips, Martha knew she was doomed, she loved the man. Ten years between them or not.

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><p>The summer was ending. In a week, Martha had the opening night of her play. Jon would be there. His last night before going to Harvard. Both were feeling heavy. They hadn't talked about it. Ostrich's tactics, heads buried in the sand, as if ignoring it would make september never come. But it was so close now.<p>

It was sunday morning, very early morning. But Jon wasn't sleeping. He was observing Martha, drowsy, her head on his bare shoulder. He was drawing patterns on her bare back, holding her close.

"You're staring." The sleepy comment startled him.

"Can't help it. You make colors seem dull, you're so bright and beautiful."

"And you don't make sense."

He laughed. She always shot his attempt at lyricism down. He felt her smirk against his skin, then sigh.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm gonna miss you." He squeezed her frame against his body.

"Don't you think we can make it work? Long distance?" He knew the answer.

"Jon. Even if we could. I'm... You're 18. You should enjoy Harvard and your college years. I can't and I won't tie you down. You have such a bright future ahead of you." He felt like crying. Even more so when her tears moistened his skin. She gasped a little and continued. "But we have one week left."

"One week," he repeated, rolling them over and kissing her.

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><p>The opening night of the play was a triumph. Jon joined Martha in her dressing-room after the show. He put the big bouquet on a table and gathered her in his arms.<p>

"You were perfect!"

Martha just blushed, looking at the door nervously. He glanced behind him. He let go of her for a quick moment. He closed the door and locked it. She chuckled as he backed her against the wall.

"I wanted to do this all night. You were so beautiful and great on that stage." He kissed her thoroughly. "Just extraordinary, Martha Rodgers." Her heart melted as she kissed him back.

"And you are wonderful, Jon Alessandro."

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><p>It was spring but Martha Rodgers wasn't really enjoying it. She was too busy pushing, exhausted and sweaty, to send her hurried son into the world. After hours of pain, she finally heard the cries of her new born. Minutes, which felt like hours, later, a nurse finally put the little bundle in her arms.<p>

"He's perfectly healthy," she told her.

"Yes, he's perfect." Martha blinked back the tears, not wanting to miss one little thing about her baby. She smiled. "Hello Richard Alexander Rodgers, I'm your mother." Big blue eyes stared back at her.

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><p>Next : back to present time...<p>

Please, tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 1

**Present day.**

"Ricky!"

The shout echoed in the busy New York street. Castle turned, looking around to see who had called. Next to him, Beckett did the same. She was the first to spot the young woman who was waving. Tall, thin, fair hair, late 20's, beautiful. Probably a fan. Beckett decided she didn't like her. Who shouted in the middle of the street ? People should show a little restraint. She elbowed Castle, who hadn't spotted the yeller yet. His reaction took her aback.

"Oh my god!" He exclaimed, running toward the woman. He engulfed her in a bear hug, lifting and twirling her. Beckett felt a pang of jealousy. So, not a fan, maybe an ex. Castle used to be this playboy, dating young models. Her jaw tightened involuntarily. She had no claim upon Castle, he didn't stop the green eyed monster to show up every now and then.

She watched as he put her down. They were both laughing and talking. She couldn't hear and debated the idea to just leave them there. The 12th was just a few feet away. But she saw him gestured to her. He took the woman hand in his and they walked up to her. She swallowed hard and plastered a smile on her face. Castle was beaming, so was his friend.

"Beckett, this is Camille. A very dear friend."

The smiling woman extended her hand, and Beckett shook it.

"Hi. It's really nice to meet you. Ricky can't shut up about you." She gave Castle a look but he was busy glaring at Camille. Beckett didn't know what to say.

"Ah? It's nice to meet you too." She felt uncomfortable and wanted to flee. "But I'm sorry, I need to go back to work," she added motioning to the precinct's entry behind her.

"Of course, yeah. I let you two go back to it." Camille was already backing away, still smiling.

"Actually," Castle interrupted. "Beckett, is it okay if I go with Camille for coffee? The case is practically closed, anyway." It was true, the suspect was waiting for them, he started his confession during his arrest. But Castle usually stayed for the interrogation and to tie up loose ends. She tried to hide her disappointment.

"Sure. See you later?"

"Yeah," he answered but his attention was already on Camille. Like a stalker, she observed them walk down the street. Close, very close to one another.

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><p>"I'm so glad to see you! When was the last time we saw each other?" Castle asked, making their joined hands bounced on each sides of their mugs.<p>

"Well, there was that night in 2003 when we were supposed to meet..."

Castle groaned, remembering his theft of a Police horse.

"I was trying to get there in time!"

"Naked? On a police horse?" She arched an eyebrow.

"I didn't think the whole thing through at the time," he grumbled.

"I'm glad to see you. With clothes. And apparently, you have a new obsession? From a police horse to a police detective?" she teased.

"Are you comparing Beckett to a horse?" He was indignant, his eyes firing.

"Wow! You really like her," Camille laughed. Castle sighed.

"I really do..." She squeezed his hands.

"I sense a story here."

"It's a long one too. How long are you staying?"

"A while. I repatriated Dad in a hospital here." Both became somber.

"How is he?"

"He's not speaking yet. But he's there. He opens his eyes and looks at me. Sometimes he cries," the young woman choked. Castle's thumbs draw circles on the back of her hands. "God, Ricky. When I got the call about the stroke..."

"I know, I know. He was in the Hamptons, right?"

"Yeah. He was not alone, thank God. He was having a dinner party with close friends. They took care of him there until I could come back. But I was in Africa. He took me a few days." The tears were flooding. Castle reached out to wipe them off her cheek. "I'm okay..." She smiled at him.

"Obviously," he joked. "Is it okay if I visit him? Mother will want to come too."

She nodded. "Of course," she paused, hesitating. "I already talked to Martha, actually. She's the one who told me where to find you."

"And here I was, thinking it was fate!" He grinned as she chuckled.

"You always manage to make me feel better," she told him. She was looking at him oddly. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, though. She cleared her throat. "I need to get back to the hospital, but... maybe we can see meet again. Soon? I actually need to talk to you about something."

He frowned.

"Sure. What about you come to drinks tonight? The Old Haunt?" He offered, getting up and noting that they had barely touched their coffees.

"The pub you bought..."

He grinned, nodding. "You're such a spoiled child! I'll be there around 8."

They hugged goodbye in front of the diner.

"Oh, I forgot. Where are you staying?"

"I checked in a hotel near the hospital."

"Well, check out. You're staying at the loft."

"Ricky..." He held a finger and she shut up. "Fine."

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><p><strong>Night - Old Haunt.<strong>

Castle had gotten behind the bar to pour drinks for the whole gang waiting in the booth. As he was preparing the last one, Esposito came to pick some of them.

"Man, You're making one too many."

"I've invited someone. She should arrive soon."

Esposito put the drinks back on the counter and leant in. "Oh ! The mystery woman you left with today?"

"How do you?.."

"Hello, let me introduce myself, *Detective* Esposito."

"Beckett told you."

"Well, yeah. She didn't say much, though."

"She's an old friend I've haven't seen in a long time."

"Cute?" The detective asked taking, a sip of his own beer.

"Very."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"I was still in college, so she must have been around 9." Esposito spat his drink. "What's wrong?"

"10 ? Are you some sicko ?"

"What? .. Oh my God! You think Camille and I? No, ew, no! I use to babysit her. My mother and her parents were friends when they still lived in New York. They moved because her mother was a diplomat. Me and Camille, are you crazy?"

"Oh!" Esposito was relieved, then realization struck. "Oh!"

"What, again?"

"Did you tell Beckett that?"

"No, why?" Castle asked, gathering some of the drinks to transport them to the table. Esposito took the others.

"Remember Serena Kaye ?"

"Oh...Oh! She thinks..."

"I don't know, but she seemed pretty... annoyed... this afternoon when you weren't there", the detective explained.

"You mean jealous?" Castle asked with glee.

"You said it, not me!"

The precariously balanced drinks arrived intact on the table. Jenny was in the middle of a story about Ryan.

"And then, he said to Kevin : 'Sweet house, dude, That's a great place to grow pot'. I swear my cousin is such a..."

"Pot head?", Castle offered, grinning while he passed the drinks around..Everybody chuckled.

"Actually, yes!" Jenny laughed along.

The conversation continued, Castle glancing to the door every minute. But Camille arrived when he was in a middle of an argument about Halo with Esposito and he missed her. She sneaked behind him.

"Is this my beer, sitting here and getting too warm to be drinkable?" She asked loudly in his ear, startling him. He grinned when he saw her.

"Well, if you weren't so late..."

"I guess I should thank you, then, *Dick*!" Castle shook his head, but his smile widened.

"I've missed you, little punk," he muttered. "Everybody, this is my old friend, Camille. Cam, you already know Beckett." Before moving to introduce the others, he noticed Kate's expression. Something oddly resembling jealousy. It made his heart beat just a little faster.

They all moved to make a little place for her. She sat, squeezed between Esposito and Castle, who put his arm around her shoulders. The gesture provoked a discreet glare from Beckett as she sipped her beer.

"So, Camille, Castle tells me he used to baby sit you. Are you sure it wasn't the other way around?" Esposito asked.

"Babysit?" Beckett's head perked up and Castle shot daggers at Esposito over Cam's head. He wanted to have a little fun with Beckett's jealousy. Not long, but just enough so she wouldn't be able to deny it later. His plan was squashed. He wondered how bad her mood have been while he was with Camille this afternoon. If Esposito was so keen to let the cat out of the bag, it must have been quite awful.

"He was my favorite babysitter. My parents still remember the stairs skiing accident."

"Oh, I remember that. Your dad was mad!" Castle nodded, lost in memories.

"He was scared. You were supposed to prevent me from doing stupid things. Not show me new ones.

"Stair skiing?", Lanie asked, curious.

"We put a carpet on the stairs and skied on it. It was summer and she wanted to ski," Castle explained.

"Ricky's ideas to entertain me were always fun. But few were safe."

"I would do it at my loft but Alexis tells me its to dangerous with the bend. Anyway. I think I won my ticket to another year at boarding school with that one. Her dad was so pissed, I think he was the one to convince my mother to send me far away again. Not that she needed much convincing."

"How come they let you babysit in the first place ?" Ryan was doubtful.

"My dad and Martha were old friends. Plus, he wasn't so terrible."

Castle interrupted : "I was the only babysitter you obeyed, that what it was. She was a little monster. All blond curls and devious."

"Thank you for that, Dick"

"Don't use words you can't handle, punk!"

"Don't blame me for your name, Dick..."

"Stop it."

"You stop it."

Castle stuck his tongue out at Camille. The others exchanged looks.

"I see, now, why you say Castle is a grown man child, Kate," Jenny staged whispered.


	3. Chapter 2

"So that was fun..." Camille told Castle as they enter the loft.

"I'm glad you like them. I think they like you too."

"Yes. Even your detective Beckett... After she learnt you used to babysit me. Don't think I didn't notice you little game of making her jealous, Rick!"

"What? No... Do you think it worked?" He was eager to know.

Her laugh was interrupted by a yawn.

"Tired? Come on I'll show you the guest room."

"Can we sit and talk first. There's something I need to tell you."

"Okay now I'm scared." He said, following her to the couch.

"I learnt some stuff recently."

His face blanched. "Are you sick. You're dying." He was hyperventilating.

"Shut up. I'm not sick, not dying." She took a deep breath. "Just shut up and let me finish. I was tidying some of Dad's stuff. For the move. And I found his... I guess I should call it diary. Old leather books with his thoughts. I started reading. It's mostly from his college years. In one of the early ones, he talks about Martha. They... They had an affair. A very short one but an affair nonetheless."

Castle couldn't help the "Duh" sound that escaped his lips. He thought as much.

"It was in 1970, Rick." When he didn't react, she continued. "Summer 1970. In his diary he wrote about you. He thought he might have been your father. Apparently Martha denied it, but... he always had a doubt."

She couldn't read his face. She guessed he was in shock.

"No, I... It doesn't. Why would they..." The great Richard Castle was struggling with words. Flashbacks of his youth kept assaulting him. How Camille's father has always been there somehow, for important moments of his young life. How he had been the one his mother turned to when the young Rick was too much of a handful.

"Hide this? I talked to Martha this morning. She confirmed it. She wants to be the one to tell you, us, the story, though."

True to her character, Martha appeared, descending the stairs, right on cue.

"Hey Kiddo."

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><p>1976.<p>

Martha was nervous. And the little boy could feel it. She kept rearranging his coat.

"Muuuum," Rick whined, pulling at his collar. Martha squatted in front of him.

"Richard. This is very important you behave tonight, okay?" He pouted but nodded.

"Why do we have to go? I don't know these people."

"Jon is a friend of Mommy, Kiddo. It's his birthday and we got invited to a surprise party for him."

"Is there gonna be cake?" The 5 years old boy lighted up.

"Most likely."

"Okay, then." Martha pecked his cheek and got up. Taking his hand in hers, she knocked on the door.

A beautiful blond woman opened.

"Martha? Hi, I'm Olivia, Jon's fiancée. Thank you so much for coming. He'll be thrilled. I wasn't sure you could come and... Sorry I'm babbling. I'm Olivia," she smiled, extending her hand and opening the door wider to let them in.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Olivia," Martha smiled back as they shook hands. "And this is Richard." She squeezed her son's hand. He sighed and extended his right hand.

"Hello, miss. I'm Rick. Is there cake?"

Martha eyes widened but Olivia laughed.

"Hello Rick. Yes, there are cakes, plural, actually. But hurry in. Jon should be here soon. He doesn't suspect a thing."

They followed her to the living room, full of people. Upon seeing the large buffet, Rick grinned. This day wasn't that bad after all. He got to fly for the first time and there were cakes.

The room was dark and silent. After an exhausting day at his new job, Jon was happy to be home. He just wished his fiancée could have been here. This internship at this Boston law firm was kicking his ass. He flicked on the lights of the off campus condo and nearly died of shock.

"Happy birthday!" The crowd shouted. Then, they started to sing, much to his dismay.

"What the..." His Harvard friends were here of course, but he also spotted a few people from New York. Olivia appeared at his side. She kissed him softly.

"Surprise! Happy birthday."

"You did this? Thank you."

Soon, Jon was mingling, saying thanks and catching up with everyone. He was laughing with one of his frat buddy when he saw her... them. He excused himself and went straight to the red hair and young boy.

"Hey Martha," he started softly, almost unsure. She smiled brightly and engulfed him in a hug.

"Happy birthday, Jon!"

"You came all the way from New York?"

"Yes. Olivia – she's lovely by the way – contacted me about this surprise. It was such a nice idea."

He took her hands in his.

"Thank you. It means a lot." He glanced at the kid next to Martha. She gave him a small smile. He kneeled in front of him.

"And you must be Richard."

"Rick," he corrected. "Only Mum calls me Richard."

"I stand corrected. I'm Jon. It's nice to meet you." Jon was eyeing the young boy. His blue eyes, his fair hair. He felt something familiar and unfamiliar all at once, a tugging at his heart.

"It's nice to meet you too. Happy birthday. Have you tasted your cakes, yet? The chocolate one is the best. But the one with cherries is good too."

"I'll be sure to try those, then. Thank you, for the advice, Rick," he grinned. He got up and met Martha's eyes. They didn't speak, but they were having a conversation. He was full of questions, she had no answers for him.

"How long can you stay?" He asked finally.

"We have a room in a hotel. But we're leaving tomorrow. Rick has school on Monday and I have a dress rehearsal sunday night." Jon was about to comment when Rick piped up.

"And Steve is taking me to the game."

"Steve?" Jon frowned.

"He's mommy's friend and mine too. He takes me to school and stuff," Rick added.

Jon looked at him, then at Martha. He let out a breathy chuckled as Martha smiled, embarrassed.

"So, you and Steve Larson..." His heart sank. He remembered perfectly the handsome actor, one of Martha's costar in that play six years ago.

Before she could answer, he was called to open his presents.

"Go, we'll talk later."

The party was in full swing. Even Martha was enjoying herself, talking to a few artists and aspiring comedians. She kept an attentive eye on Rick, but he seemed okay. Olivia had given him a few comics . He was perusing them in a corner, not to far from her. She oberved with curiosity as Jon sat on the floor next to him. She could barely hear their conversation.

"So you like comics?"

"Yeah. But I can't read very well yet. So I look at the pictures and I read only when I don't understand what's going on."

"Who's your favorite?"

"I don't know. What's yours?"

Jon fingered the comics Rick was reading. "This one. The dark knight."

"Batman's pretty cool," Rick agreed.

"Speaking of knights and cool. Do you want to see what me and my roommates have built?"

Rick's eyes sparkled. "Yeah! But... Mum?" He looked up at his mother. Jon got up and he whispered something in Martha's ear. She chuckled.

"He'll love that," she told him. "You both have fun."

"Come on, little man." Jon said, helping Rick up.

The boy followed him to the end of the corridor. On the way, they met with Matt, one of Jon's roommates.

"I'm gonna show Rick here our 'thing'. Maybe enroll his help."

"Yeah, we need some work on the battlements." Matt answered.

"Battlements?" Rick asked, baffled.

Jon paused in front of a door. He opened it dramatically.

"Rick. Welcome to our castle!"

"Wow!" The boy couldn't believe his eyes. In front of him was a room fully occupied by a giant Lego castle. There were still some bits missing but the walls, the rooks, most things were already built. Minifigures were also present here and there. Rick ran to it, in awe. He picked one of the brick.

"Can I?"

"Sure!" The smile of the kid's face made Jon beamed. Olivia may mock his and his roommates' obsession but at least it made Martha's son happy.

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><p>"In the end, he believed Steve was you your father. I never corrected him," Martha finished her story.<p>

"Steve was gay, Mother." Castle couldn't identify all the feelings colliding inside of him. But anger was certainly one of them.

"Well, you know that know. But back then? It was very hush, hush, Richard." The writer sighed. Next to him Camille was eager to understand.

"But, in his diary, he wrote he suspected that he was Rick's dad."

"He did. He actually wrote to me more than once before meeting Richard. I never told him it was a preterm birth either. So he was never sure. He assumed that he was conceived before or at that I cheated at the beginning of our relationship. I never really asked him."

"But why didn't you tell him when you found out you were pregnant? That must not have been easy?" Camille pushed. Castle was glad she did, he was still trying to recover.

"Oh, Camille! He would have wanted to marry me and found a job as a server or something to support us. But your dad had such a bright future in front of him. Harvard, being a lawyer, get into politics. I couldn't get in the way of that. And then he met Olivia, your mother. He loved her so much."

"Didn't you... love him?" Castle asked, softly.

"Kiddo. Jon and I loved each other more than life itself for the two months of our relationship. It was wonderful. In other circumstances, it would probably have lasted a little longer. But It would have ended eventually. He was too young, I was too selfish."

"You got that right. You thought that depriving me of a father would be easier?" The anger was winning the inner contest.

"You may not have call him dad but he was here for you. You can't deny that." Martha snapped back. Castle got up.

"Rick!" Camille called.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed," he said curtly, leaving the two women alone in the living room.

"He'll come around," the young one tried to reassure.

"He's right to be angry," Martha admitted, a tight smile on her lips, tears in her eyes. She hated to see his son hurt.

They stayed silent for a while. Camille broke it.

"Martha? Can you show me where the guest room is? Rick was supposed to, but..."

The actress laughed at that, thankful for the tension relief.

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><p>So, hum... no reviews yet... I'm almost ashamed to say, but it makes me sad. At least, tell me what's wrong with it...<p> 


	4. Chapter 3

Wow ! Thank you so much for all the reviews. So much! They really help with the writing. They make me ridiculously happy too. Keep them coming! For the typos, I try my best, I swear. I'm not very good at editing, I keep rewriting and making more mistakes. So my apologies. I'll answer the reviews when I have more time (vacations are a few days away, yeah!), I promise.  
>In the meantime, here's more Kate.<p>

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><p>Laying in bed, Castle couldn't find sleep. It was very early morning and memories were keeping him awake.<p>

**1990.**

"Ricky!" The little girl joyously screamed, launching herself at the boy who just entered the Sanders' upper west side flat.

"Hello Princess!" He carried her to the sitting room and put her on the couch, standing. "That's a beautiful dress, Camille." The girl twirled on the cushions, showing off her white fluffy dress.

"Does Kyra wear dresses like this?"

"She should. How are you, little one?"

"I'm good!" she exclaimed, jumping on the floor and running around the room. "How is college?"

"Tremendous." Camille stopped and glared at him.

"Tremendwhat?" He laughed.

"It's great."

"See, that's not so difficult to use normal words," she admonished.

"But it's less fun, sassy girl. Is your dad around?"

"Yes!" She took his hand and dragged him to the office. "Daaaaad!" she called.

"Baby! What did I tell you about shouting?" The man appeared in the corridor. He was surprised to see the 19 years-old. "Rick. Everything's okay?"

"Hello, Jon. I just need some advice."

The three of them went back to the sitting room. Camille snuggled on the couch against Rick. The student pulled a notebook from his backpack.

"I think it's finished." He extended it to the older man.

"What is it?" Camille asked, curious.

"My manuscript, Princess."

"Can I read it?"

"Hum, maybe later. You dad need to read it first. If it's still okay..."

The man smiled and nodded. "Of course." He stroke the leather with his palm. "Did you type it yet?"

"No. I'm waiting to see if it's worth it."

The phone rang in the apartment, putting an end on the conversation.

"I'll call you when I'm done, Rick." Jon said, getting up.

"Thank you. So much, Jon." The young man patted Camille on the head, shouldered his bag and left with a wave.

It was barely a week later when Rick got a call. He dropped everything and hurried to the upper west side. Camille's mom, Olivia opened the door. She laughed at his breathlessness and told him to go directly to the office. Jon looked up from his paperwork.

"Sit down."

"Oh my god! It's that bad?" Rick whined, burying his face in his hands. Jon came around to sit in front of him. He pushed Rick's hands away, forcing him to look up. He took a package next to him.

"This is for you. Open it."

Rick was puzzled but obeyed. He teared the cardboard and looked at the machine inside.

"A computer?"

"A laptop. You'll need it to type your book. Better with a portable one. That way you can type anywhere."

"I... I don't know what to say! It's too much."

"Thank you will be enough. It's a good book, Rick. In the hail of bullets, catchy title. There are still some kinks to iron out. But I think it's worth sending. Did Martha read it?"

The young man shook his head.

"Kyra did. But she..."

"Loves you. So you didn't believe her." Rick looked sheepish. "You have a real talent, Rick. You should let Martha read it. She will be pleased to see sitcoms inspire you!"

"Thank you! So much!" On impulse, he jumped to his feet and hugged the man.

"Okay, okay. Enough," Jon chuckled. "Go back to class, now. You still need to graduate!"

Rick was grinning like a fool as he walked back to the door, laptop under his arms, his book in the other. He pecked Olivia's cheek on his way out.

"It's a good book, Rick!

"Thanks!" He beamed.

"You're still babysitting Camille friday night?"

"Wouldn't miss it. Does she know how to type?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Scoot!"

* * *

><p>Castle didn't know if he wanted to cry or laugh. He looked at the clock. 6:13. He needed to talk to someone. He picked up his phone.<p>

_"Are you awake?" _He typed quickly. The answer came back after a few minutes.

_"Depends... And you better not ask me what I'm wearing, Castle."_ It made him smile.

He chose his words carefully. He didn't want Beckett to panic and think he wanted to talk about them. He had enough on his plate right now without dealing with a freaked out detective. _"I need a friend to talk to about family stuff."_

_"Sure. Are Alexis and Martha ok? Coffee place next to the precinct in an hour?"_

_"Alexis and Mother are fine. See you in an hour."_

In her apartment, Beckett looked curiously at her phone. No joke, no innuendos. It was so unlike Castle.

* * *

><p>Beckett arrived early. She ordered both coffees and waited for Castle. She had been a bit taken aback by his texts this morning. She was sensing something was not right.<p>

He arrived and spotted her immediately. He looked awful, like he barely slept.

"You really need this," she pushed his cup towards him as he sat.

"Thanks," he smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. He took his time with his coffee. She waited for him to start. When the flow of words started, it seemed like nothing could ever stop it. Always the writer, his first sentence was powerful but mysterious :

"I know who my father is."

He then exposed to Beckett what Camille had discovered, their conversation with his mother. He tried to explain the turmoil he was in. The anger towards Martha, Jon, Camille, himself... Everybody really.

She sat there, listening, nodding from time to time. His eyes never left hers. He needed that anchor. When he stopped, she forced herself to speak.

"Wow."

"You can say that again," he sighed and leant backwards, spent.

She put her hand above his on the table. He looked at it. Slowly, he turned his palm to hold her hand.

"Do you want my... opinion, for lack of a better word?" She asked, softly.

"Hum."

"I think you have the right to be angry. But it'll pass. What's important now is : what do you feel about your dad. Jon, right? Did you like him, as a friend?"

Castle chuckled humorlessly.

"I used to say : He's like a father to me." He rubbed his eyes with his free hand to stop the tears. She squeezed his fingers. "I'm sorry," he grumbled.

"It's okay, Castle. You should go see him at the hospital. If Camille says he understands, even if he can't speak. You need to see him."

"I don't know if I can. What do I say? Sorry you had a stroke, Dad. Oh yeah, my mother lied to you for over 40 years! He's paralyzed, Beckett, he can't talk. I think he had enough drama recently without poor little me coming in with... that."

Castle was getting restless. In that instant, Kate saw through the layers of the successful writer, once playboy, still man-child. Like that time he told her about boarding school, she saw the scared and lonely boy who grew up without a dad. Her heart soared. She wanted nothing more than to take him in her arms and let him weep. But it wasn't what he needed.

"Hey, hey, Castle. You don't think he has the right to know? And even if you don't, he was your friend. I know it's hard, but you need to confront this."

He looked up, a small smile tucking at his lips.

"Look who's talking..."

Beckett rolled her eyes, a reflex. She took her hand back and drank her coffee. A flash of hurt and regret lighted his eyes.

"So Camille's your sister, then." She decided to forget the jab.

"Yes," he said, like he just realized it. "I have a sister. And a brother. Matthew. He's a student in Europe. God, I didn't even think of that. I don't even know if Camille told him."

Beckett grinned. "See, that's not all bad. A sister and a brother. What about Camille's mom?"

Castle's face fell again. "She died. Car accident, two years ago. I don't think she knew or even suspected. If she did, she certainly didn't... She was always good to me."

Emotions overwhelmed him once more and he buried his face in his hands. Castle's arms out of reach, Kate settled for the next best thing. Stretching a leg under the table, she jostled his ankle with her boot, gently.

"Stop playing footsie, it's not the time," he mumbled, still hidden. But she could hear the faint humor in his voice.

"Shut up! I'm trying to be nice and supportive here," she answered playfully. "Look, I need to go to the precinct. I really think you should visit your dad. Maybe with Camille? Have you talked to her since last night?"

His arms fell on the table as he shook his head. "I came straight here."

Beckett got up. She stopped next to him. One hand on his shoulder, she squeezed it and offered him a smile.

"I'm sorry. I really have to go. But you know where to find me. Today's just paperwork, but you're welcome to come in anyway."

He smiled back : "Thank you."

She didn't hesitate. "Always." On impulse, she bent down and kissed his cheek. "Hang in there." She didn't wait around to witness the shock on his face.


	5. Chapter 4

Thank you all again for the reviews! Here's next chapter.

* * *

><p>Castle's heart was beating too fast. Having an attack in a hospital. Ironic, he thought. 'Well, only if I die.' He glanced at Camille - his sister, he couldn't get over that yet. Walking down the corridor next to him, she seemed oblivious to his state. He had found her at his kitchen counter this morning, after his meeting with Beckett.<p>

"Oh, Rick. I thought you were still asleep. Want breakfast?"

He shook his head but sat nonetheless.

"I already ate with Beckett."

"Oh. A body dropped?" She busied herself, not really interested in his answer, at least not this early while cooking an omelet.

"No. Just needed to talk." He paused, looking as she finished preparing her food and tea. He licked his lips, gathering his courage. "May I come with you to the hospital today? To see him?"

He barely heard the clatter of her fork on the plate, just saw her eyes meeting his. Surprise, delight and apprehension in them.

"I think that's a very good idea," Camille emphasized the 'very'. "I was planning to go later, just before lunch. Is that okay?"

He nodded and she beamed at him. Her message was clear. "It's going to be fine."

That's why he was there, in this hospital, questioning his choice as they approached Jon's room. His father's room.

"Is Matt coming?" He asked to distract himself from his hammering heart. His words startled Camille. He hadn't spoken since they departed the loft. She stopped, one hand on the handle of room 2806.

"Hum. He came just after the stroke but he had to go back for exams. He'll be back soon... Why?"

Castle shrugged. "Just wondering." But Camille read him like a book.

"He doesn't know. He was already gone when I found out. Didn't seem right to break that kind of news over the phone."

He nodded, unable to find the right words. Not a first for him, but a rare occurrence.

"You're ready?" Camille's voice was soft. Her free hand found his and he felt grateful. Without waiting for his answer, she turned the handle and stepped in.

In his memory, Jon was this force of nature. A tall, strong but lean man with sandy hair and fierce green eyes. The man laying in the bed wasn't any of that. He appeared to be sleeping : sickeningly thin, hollow cheeks and grey hair. Castle stood in the doorway while Camille went to her dad's side.

"Hey, dad." She caressed his forehead gently and he opened his eyes. Still green, still fierce. His lips curled up on his right side upon seeing his daughter. Castle was reminded why he looked so sick. The stroke had paralyzed his left side. His right was just recovering.

"Look who I came with?" Her eyes camped on her dad, she extended her hand to Castle. He walked inside Jon's line of sight.

"Hey." Camille moved away and before he could argue, she was pushing him closer. He sat on the chair next to the bed. His eyes leveled with Jon's. Castle didn't know what to say so he just stared, feeling like an idiot and an ass. Tears were coming up and he swallowed hard. The old man's right hand twitched, the half-smile faltered a bit. Something appeared in his eyes. Castle read it as sorrow and pain. A salted drop wetted the old man's cheek. This was too much for the writer.

"It was a bad idea," he muttered, getting up. Lost, behaving like a headless chicken, he turned left then right. "Jon, I... I hope you, huh, get well soon. Camille..." He stopped. The young woman was staring at him like he was crazy. She was disappointed. "I can't," was all he could say to explain. He ran out. He wasn't stopping for anything.

* * *

><p><strong>1985<strong>

Rick was waiting outside the principal's office. Again. He had lost count around the twentieth time this year. That was four month ago. He blew a strand of hair away from his eyes. He was internally preparing for the shouting. His mother had been called. She was going to be pissed, she was playing in this soap those days. The workload meant she didn't have much time, nor patience, for her son's antics. Rick heard someone approaching, then slowing down next to him. He didn't look up. He wasn't interested. He was never interested. The man, according to the shoes, went up to the secretary's desk.

"I'm Jon Sanders. Martha Rodgers called me about Rick, here. She's very sorry, she couldn't come but she sent me."

"Are you the father?" The annoying woman asked.

"No. I'm a friend of the family." There was a silence. Rick struggled to keep his head down. Eventually, the secretary called the principal. Jon slumped in the chair next to Rick's.

"Man," he said. "You have no idea how much trouble you are in, do you?"

The door opened and they had to walk in before Rick could answer.

An hour later, Jon was driving Rick home to his mother. The atmosphere was gloomy. Rick had been kicked out of yet another New York school. "Shout, Shout get it all out," Tears for fears were bellowing on the radio. That's what Rick wanted to do so badly. He just didn't know how. He glanced at the man behind the wheel.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" The stern voice made the teenager flinch.

"For defending me, in the principal's office." Rick could barely be heard above the radio. Jon shook his head.

"You think I did this for you? I did this for your mother," his anger was building and he latched out. "My god! Are you stupid, Rick? She does everything to give you the best life she can despite the circumstances. She's a struggling actress who's trying to raise you and offer the best education. And you keep getting kicked out of school! Dammit, kid. She was crying on the phone earlier! You're killing her. She works very hard on this show. But she never complains. I don't know why she hasn't sent you to boarding school yet."

Rick looked down at his feet. He didn't know why he was doing all these jokes in school. It just seemed fun. He had no explanation for his behavior.

"Well, say something!" Jon demanded.

Rick shrugged. "I don't know," he whispered. He startled when Jon's hand came in contact with the wheel, hard. He heard him breath heavily, Rick concentrated on his sneakers.

"Listen, Rick. I can understand it's hard to grow up without a dad. But your mother, she... She loves you. She'd do anything for you."

The boy shrugged again, not convinced. Jon tried another angle.

"Did you know I changed my name?" Rick raised an eyebrow.

"My father is this powerful, influential man here. It wasn't easy to grow up in his shadow. So after Harvard, when Olivia found this job at the UN and we needed to be back in New York, I decided to change it. I severed this link with him because it was weighting to much. Some people don't know who my father is, some do. To those, I'm my own man. I made a statement. You... don't have this problem. You have another one. But it doesn't mean you can't make it an asset."

Rick looked at Jon, skeptic.

"What would like your dad to be?"

Rick considered it for a while. "Indiana Jones." It made Jon laughed.

"Hey, why not?" The man admitted. He sobered up again as he pulled in front of the building where Martha and Rick lived.

"You won't avoid boarding school this time, Rick. I recommended Edgewick Academy to your mother. That's where I went. It's a good school. You can make the best of it or continue this destructive spiral. You're smart, Rick. Don't loose your edge, but try to think before you decide to crack a match over hydrogen in physics class. You nearly blew up your teacher for Christ's sake!"

Rick had the decency to look sheepish even if he didn't regret his actions. The consequences, yes. The actions, not even a little.

"Come on. Time to face your mother. Olivia and the baby are with her. I don't know who is going to be wailing the loudest." Jon stepped out of the car. Rick sighed before following him.

* * *

><p>The call for the body came just before lunch, making Esposito and Ryan grumbled about timing. They took their coat and left for the crime scene anyway, letting Beckett catch up, after her call to Castle. Except this time, she hesitated. If he was visiting his dad or planning to, she didn't want to offer him a reason to back out. She decided she was ready to take crap for it and followed the boys.<p>

In the alley where the crime had occurred, it was Lanie who asked about the missing member of the team.

"We're not waiting for writer boy?"

"Not this time," Beckett answered, shortly, not wanting to go into details. The three others exchanged looks.

"Man, not again!" Ryan whined.

"Did you guys fight?" Lanie asked, disapproving.

"Is this about Camille? Because I can assure you, you have nothing to worry about."

"Exactly," Ryan added as the three of them started a conversation without her. "Those fights are tiring. I mean get together or not but stop fighting about it."

"This sexual tension is fun to watch, but seriously, they need to get over themselves, literally" Lanie joked.

"Oh, good one!", Esposito applauded.

Beckett gaped at them.

"Guys!" she yelled. "Castle had personal business to take care of."

"Oh", the three said.

"The victim is a Jane Doe, about 40 years old. Cause of death is most likely head trauma," Lanie quickly spoke changing the subject. "With something like a bat or a stick. I can tell you more once I get back to the morgue."

* * *

><p>Beckett was starting on the murder board when Ryan entered the bullpen with an upset Camille on his heels.<p>

"Kate, have you heard from Rick?"

Beckett looked up, surprised.

"Not since this morning."

Camille slumped down in Castle's chair.

"I was really hoping he was here!"

Beckett sat down at her desk, a little worried. Ryan hovered, curious.

"What's going on?" Both detectives asked at the same time.

"I went to the loft, to the Old Haunt. I can't find him. He bolted out of the hospital earlier. I thought he was just getting some air. But now I can't find him and he's not picking up!"

Ryan looked confused. "Hospital?"

But Beckett understood immediately. She picked up her phone and speed dialed Castle.

"Voice mail," she said for Camille's benefit. "Hey Castle, it's me... Just checking in. Call me back." She ended the call and looked at the anxious woman in front of her. She really didn't want to tell her that Castle never failed to answer her call.

"I'm sure he's fine. At the movies or something."

"You're a very bad liar, detective."

Beckett bit her lower lip. "He'll come around. Give me you number, I'll call as soon as we hear from him."

Camille accepted and left.

By six, the investigation was wrapped up. The surveillance camera had spoken : a robbery gone wrong. The man was well known from the police. But he wasn't home when the team came to pick him up. The APB out, there was nothing else to do but go home and wait. Beckett checked her phone once more. No call from Castle. She was getting really worried. She called Camille instead.

"Kate! Is he with you?" She immediately asked. So no luck on her front either.

"I'm sorry, no. But I was thinking... Want to have a drink at the Old Haunt? Maybe he is even there, hiding."

"Yeah, I'll meet you there."

Camille must have run a few red lights, because she was waiting for Beckett in front of the bar.

"I checked. He's not inside," she said.

They walked in. Beckett waved to the barman, indicating she was going to the basement office. He nodded at her.

"Where are we going?"

"There's a hidden office," Beckett explained, climbing down. She looked around and sighed, disappointed. She really believed he could be here, nursing his red bottle of whisky.

"Let's go back up."

Installed at the bar with two beers, the two women started to talk. About Castle. Camille told Beckett what happened in Jon's room. But quickly, the conversation shifted to older memories of him.

"And then my parents moved to France when I was 9. I was so sad. After that, we barely kept in touch. He married Meredith and had Alexis. We reconnected a bit when I was in college and he was divorced. We were both having a wild phase. God," Camille laughed and blushed.

"What?" Beckett's curiosity was picked.

"I don't know if I should tell this story."

"Okay, now you have to!"

Camille finished one beer and gestured for another for her and Beckett.

"I was, what, 20. Like I said, really wild phase. I was in Georgetown then, sleeping with a lot of men. And... this will sound awful. He was my go-to guy when I wanted to get rid of a one night stand. I would text him and he would call back. I'd ask the guy to pick up and he'd give him an earful, scaring him away."

Beckett laughed. "And he was okay with that?"

"Well, I was doing the same for him," Camille admitted, shyly. Beckett nearly spat her beer. "Wild phase, post-Meredith, remember? He's really changed since", Camille felt obligated to add.

"You were right, that was quite awful."

"Well, I'm just glad we never slept together," Camille said, the buzz from the beer clouding her judgment.

"What!" Beckett was starting to regret this night out.

"Same time. I was visiting New York once and called him up. The way I was behaving then, babysitter or not, older or not, there's no doubt in my mind I would have tried something. And well, back then, he was a pretty easy mark."

Beckett was stunned. "So, why didn't... What happened?" Might as well learn about the whole story, she thought.

"He was arrested in Central park, on a police horse. Naked," Camille explained matter of factly.

"Oh, I know about that!" Somehow this information about the horse made her feel relieved. The Castle she knew now wouldn't steal a police horse. At least not naked.

"Anyway", Camille concluded, shivering dramatically. "Ew! That would have been a huge mistake, half brother or not."

* * *

><p>It was quite late when Beckett arrived at her building. The night with Camille had been good. Except, maybe, for the information about Castle's wild phase. Even if it made her realized how much he had changed since then, since he was following her too. She smiled, alone in the elevator, recalling that first interrogation. She stepped out on her floor, still smiling. Her cop sense alerted her, though. A form was sitting against her door. She relaxed, recognizing him when he looked up.<p>

"Castle?"

* * *

><p>Author's note : And cliffhanger. Yes, I'm awful.<p>

Hope the whole Castle/Camille thing didn't upset anyone. I debated doing it or not but thought it was showing Castle's "progress" since then nicely.


	6. Chapter 5

Again, thanks for the reviews. The holidays are approaching so I'll have time to respond soon. Here's the continuation.

* * *

><p>"I might have scared your neighbor," Castle said, standing behind Beckett as she unlocked the door.<p>

She chuckled and offered him coffee despite the late hour. She needed to sober up a bit. She sent him to the living-room. In the kitchen, she discreetly texted Camille while the coffee was brewing. _"He's fine, he's with me."_

Handing him his coffee, she brought up the obvious question.

"Where were you?"

Sitting on the couch, he wiggled to fish out his phone. He glanced at it and showed it to her.

"Battery's dead, sorry. We had a case?"

She sat next to him.

"Yes, but it's not why I ask. You scared Camille."

He looked sheepish.

"She told you."

"Everything," and Beckett really meant everything.

"I just couldn't... I didn't want to see anyone. So I came here. I was waiting for you."

She put her cup down. "How long have you been here?"

"A few hours... Six. I didn't stay the whole time. I went to get something to eat at some point."

Beckett shook her head in disbelief.

"You could have come to the precinct."

"I told you. Didn't want to see anyone." They both heard the unspoken 'but you' at the end of that sentence.

"So, why did you bolt out of the hospital?"

"I'm convinced he knows. And I had nothing to say to him. He saw me with Camille and... there was something in his eyes. It was too much." Castle leant his head back and closed his eyes.

Beckett pursed her lips, unable to find any comforting words.

"Want to watch a movie?" She offered after a while. He opened one eye to look at her.

He was relieved that she didn't kick him out or force him to talk some more.

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Beckett woke up with a sharp pain in her neck. She stirred and quickly realized she wasn't alone. She spied the large hand at her waist. Lifting her head -from a chest?-, she made sure she was in her apartment. The TV was still on. No dark basement this time. No handcuffs either. A smile graced her lips at the memory. Next to her, Castle was still sleeping. She extricated herself from him.<p>

When she came out of the bathroom, he was stretching, looking sleepy, disheveled and... sexy. She cleared her throat.

"Coffee?" She offered once more, peeling her eyes away from him.

"Please."

He followed her to the kitchen, rubbing the slumber off his eyes. She bit on her lip. Now that she had time to think about his situation, she had some advice. She just wasn't sure he would hear her. But last night was about consoling him. This morning had to be about telling it like she saw it. Even if she sounded a bit harsh.

"Castle. Can I talk to you honestly?"

"Yes," he answered. His hand fell at his side. He was a bit afraid.

"Your dad. Your newly-found dad had a stroke. He's in a hospital But he's alive. I know you can't compare our situations... But do you know what I would give to be able to talk to my mum one last time? Even if all she can do is look at me. Just to make sure she knows I love her, it would be..." she swallowed the tears back. He didn't think twice. He crossed the space between them to engulf her in a hug. She let him hold her and even returned the embrace, burying her face in his chest. He laid his cheek on top of her head.

"I'll go see him again," he whispered.

* * *

><p>Jon was slowly getting better. He was able to communicate thanks to little tricks. A tap of the fingers meant yes ; two, no. There was also a board with the alphabets and some pictures he could point at. True to his promise to Beckett, Castle went back, several times.<p>

One day, Martha came. Camille ushered Castle out of the room, despite his protests. She understood that his mother and their father needed to have a "talk". Rick tried to eavesdrop, but Camille twisted his ear.

"Did Beckett teach you that?" He hissed.

Before she could answer, a young man appeared down the corridor.

"Cam!"

The young woman turned around, surprised.

"Matt?"

Brother and sister hugged each other, while Castle stayed awkwardly on the side.

"You should have called. I would have pick you up at the airport," Camille whispered in her brother's ear. He answered in French. Castle wasn't able to understand. They frowned and he was pretty sure there were questions in this conversation. Martha was mentioned. His name too and of course, Jon, too : "Papa". He just stayed there, clueless.

Eventually, Matt turned to him.

"Hey, Rick. Long time no see." Castle could hear the faint french accent in Matt's english. He was born there in 1992. The author suddenly realized Alexis had a uncle basically her age. This was twisted. But said uncle had no clue yet and Camille knew they couldn't postpone this conversation.

"Come on guys," she said, hooking her arms in theirs. "Let's go have some coffee. We need to talk."

* * *

><p>That night, Castle ended up at Kate's again.<p>

"So, I talked to my brother..." he started as she was pouring them both a glass of wine.

"The student, from Europe?"

"Yes. Matthew. Matt. That was... interesting."

Beckett raised an eyebrow, taking a seat at the kitchen table. He decided to standd, pacing from time to time as he related the encounter.

"So right now, he's pissed at his dad for being so "gullible" and pissed at Camille from not telling him sooner. He talked about how this was betraying his mother. And we left it at that. In the end, he still went to see Jon, thankfully."

"Is he mad at you too?"

Castle shrugged.

"He barely registered my presence, so I don't know."

"Well, that's understandable. You weren't thinking very straight either when I saw you that morning."

Castle paused and looked at her, really looked at her.

"Thank you," he said.

"What for?" She was pouring them another glass of wine.

"For listening, helping. I'm not easy to be around at the moment. Not that I'm around much at the precinct."

"Ryan and Esposito miss you very much," she teased "But it's okay. You helped with my mom's case. I help with your dad. We're partners, remember."

Maybe it was his emotional state, or the light playing on her hair, or her smile. But something snapped inside him. He needed her to understand, to know, to have no doubt about how much she meant to him. Even if she wasn't ready, his need was too strong.

He advanced, crowding her space. He didn't gave her enough time to react. His hands framed her face and he kissed her. Just pressing his mouth on hers.

"I love you so much," he breathed against her lips. He opened his eyes, almost ready for a slap. But her eyes were still closed. She remained still. Heart beating fast, he decided to push his luck. His lips met hers again, gently moving this time. Against all odds, she kissed him back. Soon they were lost in each other. Her hands came up, playing with his hair. His left her face for her waist, bringing her body closer.

When they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily. Stunned, he gulped at the look on her face. He was ready to apologize when she reached up. He squeezed her tighter as their lips crashed again. She was making him walk backwards while untucking his shirt from his pants. They stumbled against the door frame of her bedroom. He took advantage of it, spinning them around and picking her up. She wrapped her legs around his midsection and sealed their mouths once more. He carried her to the bed.

* * *

><p>"Come with me."<p>

Beckett was startled by Castle's sudden outburst. They were at lunch at Remy's. She put her burger down.

"What?"

"I'm going to see Jon this afternoon. He has made real progress. I want you to meet him."

"I don't know Castle."

She was hesitant. He took her hand.

"Please ! I want you to meet my dad," he said, well aware of the hidden meaning. He could never meet her mom. But she could meet his dad.

"Okay."

He introduced her as his girlfriend. It wasn't new but she still found it weird. Jon tried to speak a little. His speech had improved but it tired him. Castle had told Jon that Beckett's mom was a lawyer. Former one himself, they talked about that before the conversation shifted to Castle as a teenager. Then, Jon asked for stories of Castle as a NYPD consultant "without his embellishment." The writer didn't even picked up on the remark, content to just observe the exchange with a big smile. Those two were getting along.

During the story of the mummy's curse, Beckett's phone vibrated.

"I'm sorry, it's the precinct."

Jon waved her off with a smile. He immediately beckoned Castle. Mindful of the detective, still within earshot, he pointed to the letters board.

"W. O. W"

Castle felt suddenly nervous.

"What?"

"H. O. T" His dad pointed. Castle laughed, hard. Jon tried to shush him, to no avail.

"I know!"

"H.O.W," Jon questioned. The half-smile and the twinkle in his eyes said it all : he was teasing.

"I'm still wondering," Castle grinned.

* * *

><p>AN : Next, the epilogue ! I'm afraid it will take some time. Being Christmas and all, it's difficult to find time to write. I'll hurry, though, I promise.

(Also, in case you're wondering, Alexis is in college, or something. Well, she ain't there because it's more convenient.)

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates !


	7. Epilogue

A/N : Sorry for the long delay. I'm not entirely happy with it, but it'll have to do. Tell me what you think (pretty please!)

Edited because I messed up with the timeline.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>2016<strong>

The second stroke took them all by surprise. Just like the first one. Except. Except this one was fatal to Jon.

At the cemetery, the late summer sun was a good excuse to wear shades and hide the red eyes of everyone in the large audience. Finishing his speech, Castle squeezed Matthew's shoulder. Jon's best friend – the one his brother was names after – had the hard work to speak last. Castle took back his place next to Kate, taking her hand. Castle threw his other arm around Alexis, hugging his little girl close. Above her head, he observed Camille and Matt. The big sister was gripping her brother's arm like a life line. After scanning all the people behind him for his mother, he turned his attention back to the old Matthew. But he couldn't concentrate on the words. So he just stared, focusing on the feeling of Beckett's hand in his. He squeezed Alexis against his side from time to time.

When the casket began its descent, Matt could not suppress his sob. Castle rushed to his side, helping Camille to keep the young man up, whispering encouraging words to him.

"I'm an orphan," he repeated over and over again. Beckett watched from her place near Alexis. She knew the burden of losing one parent. She didn't want to imagine the pain of loosing both, like Camille and Matt were experiencing. Castle was hugging his two siblings. The three of them formed an awkward huddle. Alexis made a move for them but Beckett stopped her. Her uncle, only two years older than her, may be in need but Castle had to be the older brother now.

"You dad needs to do this. On his own," she tried to explain.

* * *

><p><strong>Christmas 2015<strong>

"Lucia!" Jon shouted. He didn't know where his nurse and physical therapist had gone again. He got up slowly from the couch. He still wasn't back at 100 %, his right leg staying stiff, his steps unsure, his health fragile. Thus the need for the Lucia. The nurse took care of him, visiting once a day, checking on him and helping with the physical exercises. He took his cane and made his tentative way through the huge Hamptons home.

"Lucia!" He called again.

"No need to yell. What are you doing up, Mr Sanders?" She appeared from the dining room.

"It's Christmas Eve, you need to go to your family," he said as she walked him back to the living room.

"I wanted to make sure none of your furniture was in the way. You've benn very tired for a few weeks, I'm a bit worried."

"I'm fine," he argued. "You need to be with your family."

"And I will leave, as soon as yours is here."

"You mean the one who are always late?" Stopping, he dug into his pocket for his phone.

"It's me. Get your ass over here, it's urgent." He hanged up as Lucia glared.

"Sit!" She just said.

Ten minutes later, the front door opened. Castle busted in.

"What's going on?"

The nurse met him in the lobby.

"Nothing. Your father was being dramatic, Mr Castle."

"Hey Lucia! But, what are you still doing here? Aren't you afraid to be late for Christmas?" The writer asked.

"My point exactly!" Jon shouted from the couch.

"I wanted to make sure he was okay until someone arrived."

"Thank you," Castle winked with a smile. He started to walk Lucia to the door, helping with her coat. "But he's right. I hate to shoo you out but you have better things to do today than take care of the grumpy old man. Have a merry Christmas."

"I heard that," Jon yelled once again. "Lucia, don't forget the presents for your kids. They're by the door."

"Thank you again, Mr Sanders, have a merry Christmas!" She nurse shouted back.

Castle waved at her from the front porch then joined his father in the living-room.

"What took you so long? It's a five minutes drive from your place." Jon started.

"And merry Christmas to you too, father," Castle teased. Jon softened.

"Sorry. I'm feeling a bit off . Merry Christmas, Rick. Where is everybody?"

Castle sat down in front of him.

"My mother, Matt, Camille and her what's-his-name boyfriend are carpooling from New York. They should arrive soon. Alexis is at some friend's right now, but she'll be here on time."

Jon sighed contently.

"It will be good to have everyone here for Christmas."

"Are you sure it won't be too tiring for you? We could do it at my..." Castle stopped at his father's glare. "Fine, fine. Jeez, you're worst than Kate." They heard the front door open. "Speaking of the devil..."

"Little help, here, Castle?" The detective asked from the lobby. Castle got up, giving Jon a meaningful look.

"What do you want me to take?" He asked, observing with amusement her full arms. He was going for the pies hooked in her right arms but...

"Da, da, da, da, da!" The excited baby boy called, nearly jumping out of his mother's arms. He took him from Beckett and give him a twirl.

"Castle, I just fed him! Don't complain if he vomits on you again." The writer hold the boy to his eye level.

"You won't do that again to daddy, will you, Joachim? That wasn't really nice." He hold him close, walking to the living-room. "Let's go see grampa Jon." But Castle changed his mind and did a U-turn. He caught up with Kate, on her way to the kitchen. His free arm sneaked around her waist. She turned and he kissed her deeply. Grinning at her glazed eyes, he straightened the nearly falling pies and hurried once again to the living room. In the corridor, Kate shook her head. She could hear the happy cooing of Jon. The man was crazy about his baby grandchild, almost as much as Castle was.

That night, as they were all gathered around a too copious meal, Jon couldn't help to marvel at his weird family. Next to him, his youngest son and oldest grandchild were discussing some professor they both encouterted at their university. Yes, the same university : Oxford. On his other side, Martha and Jim Beckett were talking animatedly about theatre. In front of him, Rick was harassing Camille's boyfriend, asking him about his "intentions". Kate was laughing while Camille tried to shut him up. She swatted her half-brother.

"It's okay, Cam," Amir whispered, understanding, or hoping, Castle was just pushing his sister's buttons.

Jon looked down at Joachim in his lap. The boy was playing with a spoon, alternating between tapping it against the table and putting it in his mouth.

"We sure are a weird bunch, kid. And it will only get weirder with your uncles and aunts from the precinct tomorrow night."

The baby laughed giddily and offered him the spoon.

* * *

><p><strong>September 2016<strong>

The airport was buzzing with post summer departures and arrivals. Trying not to get in the way, the Sanders, Castle, Rodgers and Beckett family was saying their goodbyes. Alexis, Matt, Camille and her fiancé Amir were on their way back to Europe. They had stayed a little while after the funeral but had to go back to college and work.

Lingering hugs were exchanged. Martha had a hard time letting go of Alexis, so did Castle. Kate was struggling to keep Joachim in her arms. He was squirming but she refused to put him down, he always had the urge to wander off. Eventually, she gave up and thrusted him in his father's arms.

Castle tried to settle the boy down while talking to the departing group.

"I was wondering, guys. Maybe you could come back for Thanksgiving... Wait, they don't have Thanksgiving in Europe. Well, then Christmas. I thought, maybe, it would be nice if we could do it all together again, at the loft, or in the Hamptons... Like last year? You know, holidays. A family thing." He was babbling, unsure about his siblings' reactions, now that Jon wasn't there anymore. Camille looked at Matt. He was the one who had the hardest time with his father's death.

"I'd love that," he said.

"That would be great," Camille added. Relieved smiles appeared on their faces. They all felt it : they were a family. With some more last minutes hugs, Castle finally let everyone go, including Joachim, inadvertently. Alexis caught him as he was moving to the gates.

"You're surprisingly fast, kiddo," she said. She kissed his cheek soundly and gave him back to Kate. "But you can't come yet. I'll miss you baby brother."

Long after the four had disappeared, Castle stood in the middle of the hall, suddenly sad. He felt Kate's hand slip in his.

"Come on, let's go home." She kissed the area just beneath his ear, sending a shiver across his body. "Your mother says she wants to take Joachim for the rest of the day," she whispered. He turned, seeing Martha, walking with their little boy, a few feet ahead.

He leered at Beckett and waggled his eyebrows. "You mean we can work on baby number 2?"

"Well, no harm in practicing anyway."

Two seconds later, he had gone past his mother and the child with a wave, dragging a laughing Kate behind him.

* * *

><p>The end.<p> 


End file.
